


the rest of you, the best of you, honey belongs to me.

by thestringsthatbroke



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Adora is a resident physician who hates her boss, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Adora (She-Ra), Caretaking, Catra (She-Ra) Is a Tease, Catra hates anyone but her getting to boss around her girlfriend, Dom Catra (She-Ra), Dom/sub, F/F, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, Lesbian Disaster Adora (She-Ra), Light Dom/sub, Not Beta Read, Smut, Sub Adora (She-Ra), Top Catra (She-Ra), but mostly it's power play, i don't know how medical residency works because im not a doctor and also I live in the uk, mostly I just wanted to play around with this dynamic a little, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26215948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestringsthatbroke/pseuds/thestringsthatbroke
Summary: Adora: Can I come over?It’s an innocuous enough text to send to your best friend, or to the girl you’ve been sleeping with for the past four months. So, why does Adora feel her pulse quicken through her fingertips as she sends it? Fortunately, a response comes before she has time to consider that.Catra: Again, Adora? I’m working.Adora: Please.Catra takes a few minutes to reply, and Adora starts to think maybe she is too busy today to give Adora what she needs, or that maybe she’s decided that domming Adora is too much work, and-Finally, she sees the (...) that indicates Catra is typing. She waits. A beat, and then:Catra: Please, what?Adora: Please, mistress.This time, Catra’s response is instant.Catra: Door’s open.......Adora has a bad day at work and needs Catra to remind her just who she belongs to.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 545





	1. give your heart and soul to charity

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from NFWMB by Hozier because I'm a trash goblin with daddy issues.
> 
> This isn't the first fic I've written, but it's the first that I've posted on here so hooray to that. 
> 
> I've made some educated guesses about how medical residency works in the US because I am A.) Not a doctor and B.) Not from the US. Take those with a pinch of salt.
> 
> Also, Catra in business-wear. Enjoy.
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS: This fic is pretty light as far as content goes, but if the d/s dynamic or power exchange makes you feel uncomfortable then maybe give it a miss. 
> 
> If there's anything you feel I should add to the warnings let me know.

Adora:  _ Can I come over? _

It’s an innocuous enough text to send to your best friend, or to the girl you’ve been sleeping with for the past four months. So, why does Adora feel her pulse quicken through her fingertips as she sends it? Fortunately, a response comes before she has time to consider that.

Catra:  _ Again, Adora? I’m working. _

And maybe Adora imagines the scathing tone of Catra’s reply but it doesn’t matter. After enduring a twelve hour night shift in the ER, Adora is about eight and a half hours past what she would consider to be a healthy level of stress. She never would have guessed that the most difficult part of her Residency would be surviving her Attending’s mood swings and megalomania. Thirty minutes into her shift, she’d politely corrected a mistake he’d made with a prescription in front of a patient. She’d spent the remaining eleven and a half hours being punished for it.

Adora’s head is splitting, her feet throb, she  _ aches _ to hit something. Her Attending, maybe? Only one person has ever been able to relieve that ache. Catra’s practiced hands on her bring fog, and calm, and certainty. It’s 7:30am, but Adora needs submission more than she needs sleep. Catra’s busy though, and she knows she isn’t supposed to ask for that right now, or at all when she doesn’t feel in tip-top physical and mental condition. She’ll be in trouble for asking - Catra had been very clear about boundaries when they had negotiated the rules of their dynamic. Still, she feels the panic rising and threatening to overflow, so she needs  _ something _ .

She taps out one word, and presses send.

Adora:  _ Please. _

Catra takes a few minutes to reply, and Adora starts to think maybe she  _ is _ too busy today to give Adora what she needs, or that maybe she’s decided that domming Adora is too much work, and-

Finally, she sees the  _ (...)  _ that indicates Catra is typing. She waits. A beat, and then:

Catra:  _ Please, what? _

Adora lets out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding, allowing a smile to creep onto her face for the first time today. She replies.

  
Adora:  _ Please, mistress. _

This time, Catra’s response is instant.

Catra:  _ Door’s open. _

Adora gives herself two minutes to compose herself fully, then turns the key in the ignition.

  
  


——————————————

  
  


Catra is on the phone when Adora enters the apartment, her tone harsh and professional. She’s facing the back window as she speaks, so Adora gets an excellent view of the way her strong shoulders stretch the fabric of her perfectly tailored jacket. Catra in business wear is definitely one of Adora’s more predictable kinks. Catra’s laptop is open on the kitchen counter, which tells Adora she’s been working through breakfast again.  _ Now who’s married to work? _ Catra ends the call with a terse, “Get back to me by three,” and then she’s turning to Adora, eyes narrowing on each part of her, as though inspecting for damage. Once satisfied that Adora is in one piece, her concern melts into an arched eyebrow. Uh-oh.

“Hey Adora.”

“Hey,” the blonde replies, putting as much breathless want as she can into that one word.

Catra shakes her head and lets out a mirthless laugh. “You know I’m working today,” she says, and it’s a warning, but to Adora it’s as good as a caress.

She drops her eyes and blushes, “I know.”

“I can’t just drop everything and fuck you every time you have a bad day at work.”

“I know,” Adora repeats, a little more breathlessly.

“You give too much of yourself to that place,” says Catra, feline features turning worried for a second, before the mask of control slips back into place.

“Until I complete my Residency, they own my ass.”

This, Catra won’t accept. In an instant, she’s gripping her lover’s jaw in one hand, tilting her face sharply upward until Adora’s eyes are forced to meet hers.

“ _ I _ own your ass. Not them.  _ Me. _ ”

Catra is using her Dom voice now, and this might be a misuse of power, but  _ hell _ if she doesn’t want to  _ shake _ Adora rather than watch her give so much of herself away, and then come crawling back to Catra to piece her back together again. Catra never had a problem with boundaries like this before she met Adora; never wanted to tear off pieces of herself just to make someone else whole. It’s just fucking  _ rich _ of her to accuse Adora of giving herself away for others.

Between Catra’s fingers, Adora’s pretty mouth forms a neat “o” as those words sink in.

Adora stutters on her next words, “Catra, I-”

“I’m a busy woman, Adora. If you need something, you better ask me nicely.”

“You. This. I just need you to-”

“-Take control?” Catra finishes for her.

  
“Yes!” Adora says on a sigh, as if the very suggestion is a relief.

“Okay, then I will,” Catra says, as though still mulling it over, “But you’re not going to like it.” As she speaks, she lets one hand rest gently on Adora’s hip, walks her back slowly until her back hits the counter top. With her other hand, she reaches behind Adora, whispers, “Eyes closed, mouth open.”

Adora just stares for a moment, not quite believing that Catra is giving in so easily. Then a quirk of Catra’s eyebrow reminds her that her mistress has just issued a command that she is yet to follow, and she quickly shuts her eyes, allows her mouth to hang open. 

Catra smirks, even though Adora can’t see, at how naturally obedience comes to her. “You’re so good for me,” she can’t help but murmur. 

First, she invades Adora’s mouth with her index and middle finger, running them down the length of Adora’s hot tongue slowly, and then all at once until they bump the back of her throat. Adora relaxes the muscles of her mouth and hums happily at the feel of the intrusion. Having succeeded in coaxing submission from her, Catra abruptly removes her two fingers, and places two white pills onto Adora’s tongue. Then she’s tipping a glass of water to her lover’s lips, and instructing, “Swallow.” Adora does, even though she’s clearly confused. 

With a patient and pitying expression her submissive doesn’t see, Catra explains, “It’s Tylenol. For the headache I know that you have and won’t tell me about.” This isn’t what Adora expects, but it is what she needs. Catra won’t play unless her sub is well rested and healthy. Catra continues, “I’ve laid out one of my shirts for you upstairs. Shower. Put it on. Get some rest. I’ll wake you when I finish work.”

Adora’s eyes fly open, and she begins to protest, “Catra, no, I-”

Catra just tightens her grip on Adora’s jaw, and watches Adora shiver at the display of dominance, “I was under the impression that  _ I’m _ the one in charge. Is that not what you wanted, kitten?”

“Well, yes, but I thought-” Adora splutters, half preening at the nickname, half indignant at being denied. She’s interrupted again.

“You thought I’d blow off work and fuck you because you had a bad day?”

  
A soft moan is Adora’s only signal to the affirmative, and Catra lets out another derisive laugh. “Oh kitten. Submitting to me isn’t about getting what you want. I’m not touching you until you’ve rested. Now, are you going to be good, or am I going to have to punish you by making that time longer? Say, a week without getting to cum?”

Adora’s bottom lip quivers at this, but in her eyes Catra can see that she’s already given up on getting her own way. “You wouldn’t,” she protests anyway, too stubborn to let go too easily.

“You know I would if you disobeyed me. Adora, you look exhausted. You need to sleep,” Catra says, her tone turning softer. She removes the hand that’s gripping Adora’s jaw and winds it into her golden hair instead, watching Adora relax into the touch as Catra’s sharp fingernails drag across her scalp. She stays that way for a while, Adora leaning against her in the kitchen with Catra’s hands in her hair; massaging, tugging gently, harshly, until Adora is putty, eyes half-lidded, tension melting off her with every touch.

“Adora?” Catra prompts after a few minutes, untangling her hands from her lover’s hair to cradle her face instead.

“Hmgh,” Adora’s response is sleepy, calm, eyes still closed.

“Look at me,” Catra says firmly, and when Adora’s blue eyes flutter open, they’re immediately caught in Catra’s steady gaze, “Go to bed, kitten.” 

And, because Catra has bidden it, Adora does. She nuzzles into Catra’s shirt, breathes in the scent of her expensive perfume on the comforter, the sheets, the pillows.  _ Safe  _ is the only word to describe this feeling, though Adora is too tired right now to name it. Her unsatisfied  _ want _ still surrounds her, throbbing dully, but Adora can’t help but think — with her last conscious thought as she drifts into sleep — that maybe rest  _ is _ what she needed after all.

Later, Catra will wake Adora with sure and gentle whispers. She will field Adora’s fuck-me eyes and begging for long enough to get a good meal down her (“I won’t fuck you until I know you’ve been taken care of.”), and then maybe, just  _ maybe _ , Adora will get what she wants. At least right now she has everything she needs.


	2. ain't you my baby?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Adora asleep in her bed, Catra has a full day of work to decide what to do with the hot blonde with a savior complex. Can you teach someone to be selfish? Catra decides you can. Catra has never in her life uttered the words "top me," before, but drastic times call for drastic measures.
> 
> Fluff, angst, and kink negotiation. Smut will be coming next chapter.
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS:  
> As previously stated, PLUS: Discussions of mental health, compassion fatigue, emotional burnout, Alcohol, Subspace, Consensual choking, Handcuffs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving exploring this dynamic, but it's going in kind of an unexpected direction, so I'm postponing the smut for one more chapter (which will probably be the final chap). Sorry! Feel free to send me hate for it.
> 
> This chapter gets a little angsty and in case you were wondering, yes, I am projecting my own abysmal work/life balance issues onto Adora; pls help me. Also, excuse my poor editing. It's past midnight, but I wanna get this out before I change my mind.
> 
> Anyway, here goes. Have some disaster lesbians working through codependency in a healthy (ish) way.
> 
> (Chapter title is still from NFWMB by Hozier)

Adora is asleep practically before her head hits the pillow, and Catra goes downstairs to her home office to catch up on work. She has some things to work through before Adora wakes up: Adora broke some major relationship rules by asking to come over this morning when Catra told her she’d be working. Catra would have to think of some consequence for that rare waver in obedience from her sub. But then hell, Catra broke rules too by saying yes. 

So boundaries are neither of their strong suits. That’s okay, right? Except, boundaries  _ are _ Catra’s strong suit. They always have been. It might be the only useful thing her mother taught her; how to set boundaries, how to protect herself. Isn’t that why she likes to exert control within her relationships, the way she does with Adora?

Before Adora, Catra had never dated anyone she’d consider a friend in their own right. Relationships with Catra had been messy and painful, and not something she’d want to subject a  _ friend  _ to. That’s what Adora had been, though; a friend. That she and Adora may have had  _ shared interests _ had never even occurred to her, even if Adora’s attractiveness had… because Catra set boundaries and she stuck to them.

Or, at least she would have, if not for Scorpia and Glimmer’s meddling, along with a strategically placed game of ‘I never’ at Bow’s birthday party four months ago.

* * *

_ It’s a set up. Scorpia and Glimmer are absolutely done with watching Catra and Adora dance around each other and flirt, and pine. They’re a few drinks in when they decide on this plan, but they’re pretty sure it’s the best idea they’ve ever had. At worst, they’ll realise they have something fundamental in common and become better friends. At best, they’ll ride off into the sunset and their respective best friends will get eternal bragging rights. _

_ They start off tame. _

_ “Never have I ever been tied up during sex.” _

_ Adora drinks. _

_ “Never have I ever spanked a sexual partner.” _

_ Catra drinks. _

_ It goes like that for several rounds, each question becoming slightly more detailed than the last. Adora and Catra are both too drunk to really realise it’s intentional. Finally, Glimmer abandons all pretense of subtlety: _

_ “Never have I ever been in a Dom/sub relationship!” _

_ There’s a sharp intake of breath; it’s Adora. A pause, and then she drinks. Catra throws a death look towards Glimmer, but drinks anyway. Their eyes meet across the table and  _ how the fuck did it take them this long to see this for what it is? _ Catra laughs, more nervous than Adora has ever seen her. _

_ Bow stage-whispers, “You could cut the sexual tension with a knife.” _

* * *

It had resulted in some casual threats of murder once Catra had realised that they were baiting the two of them into  _ finally _ getting together - but by then the damage had been done, and Catra just couldn’t stop picturing the soft skin of Adora’s throat with her hands wrapped around it. Two conversations later (the first one drunk, the second sober), and Catra and Adora had crossed a boundary that could never be uncrossed.

Catra had just never realised dating someone with a freaking savior complex would be so frustrating. Does Adora literally never think about herself? Well—except when Catra leaves her needy and desperate, begging to come. Then, Adora wants. Then, Adora takes for herself. 

_ Guess she does have a selfish streak _ , Catra thinks, _ it just needs a little more encouragement _ . 

Catra considers this as she daydreams her way through a day’s worth of Zoom meetings. By the time her assistant Lonnie tells her to “ _ please  _ stop pretending to work, boss, and go get some rest,” she’s ready for the conversation that comes next. 

* * *

_ Later that evening…  _

“Catra,” Adora whines, finally breaking the silence. Her dom had woken her an hour ago, with the most infuriatingly chaste of kisses, voice soft. They’d eaten chinese food on the sofa, and Catra had asked to hear all about Adora’s Shift From Hell. The conversation has been carefully steered by Catra away from anything less than PG. Adora, getting frustrated, wonders idly if she’s stumbled into an alternate universe in which she and Catra have sleepovers and braid each other’s hair rather than having extraordinary sex.

Like now, for example, Catra is studiously ignoring her, content instead to flick through Netflix titles. She hasn’t spoken in the last five minutes, not even to suggest something to watch, which leads Adora to believe that Catra is drawing this out on purpose. Does she want to see how long Adora can wait? Adora just wishes she had the patience to wait longer than five minutes.

Catra looks up at the sound of Adora’s voice but doesn’t respond, her face the picture of measured disinterest. Adora would almost believe it, if she weren’t already familiar with Catra’s brand of discipline. It sets her heart racing.

“I’m rested,” Adora continues, when it’s clear that Catra is waiting for her to, “I’m medicated. I’ve eaten a proper meal-”

Catra throws down the remote, turning her full attention to Adora. She’s prepared for this conversation. “I know what you want, Adora. You can’t keep using submission like it’s a magic anti-anxiety pill.”

It’s no pleasure to Catra to see the playfulness fall from Adora’s face, replaced by hurt. Incredulous, the blonde replies, “That’s what you think I’m doing?”

“I know that’s what you’re doing,” Catra argues, and her hard expression leaves no room for uncertainty, “The headaches, the nightmares, coming over here wired after practically every shift.” 

“Yeah, it’s stressful Catra, but  _ it’s my job _ .”

“Please, don’t give me that martyr bullshit! That doesn’t mean you don’t get to be happy,” Catra bites, finally losing that affected nonchalance she’s been wearing all night.

“You think this doesn’t make me happy?” Adora burns with rage in response. That’s good. Catra wants her angry. It means she’s listening.

“I mean, actually happy. Not just the calm you feel when you slip into subspace while we’re scening. Not just the pleasure I tell you to feel. You’re burning out, and you’re using submission to deal with it!”

“Are you saying you want to stop?”

“No! I’m saying I want you to take control.”

“I  _ am _ in control,” Adora yells, and Catra smiles. That’s what she’s been waiting to hear.

“Prove it then,” she says. 

“Prove what?”

“Prove you’re in control. That you can put yourself first without being told to.  _ Take _ something for yourself, instead of always giving,” the reason for this lengthy preamble is that Catra knows what she is about to say next is going to need some persuading.

“Catra, I don’t understand-”

“Top me,” Catra says, as simply as she might give any other instruction. Despite her words, nothing about her tone or body language could be described as submissive. She’s holding Adora’s gaze, and the set to her brows is a dare.

Adora’s eyes go wide. She opens her mouth to speak, but promptly closes it, apparently unable to find the words. She finally settles on, “You’re serious.”

“Deadly, kitten,” Catra’s gaze on Adora is sure and even. She’s thought this through. In fact, she’s been thinking about it for awhile, “If you want to. I think it could be good for you; empowering, even, to take what you want.”

Adora wets her lips with her tongue before responding, and that’s how Catra knows how badly she actually wants this. After a moment, Adora says hesitantly, “you’re not a switch.”

“Nope,” Catra agrees.

“Then why?”

Catra shrugs, “Because you need it. And because I’m secure enough to know I’m still the boss of you, even if I’m the one wearing the handcuffs.”

“Oh,” Adora says quietly. 

Catra can tell by the look on her face she’s excited by the idea. She lifts an eyebrow; her expression is a challenge. “Shall we negotiate?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whose perspective am I writing from? Is it Catra's? Is it Adora's? Beats me.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, I can't wait to write more.
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think in the comments! I'm really interested to know how everyone thinks the D/s dynamic would work for Catra and Adora? I've seen a lot of bratty sub Catra/ service top Adora tossed around but I just can't imagine Catra being anything but in charge.


	3. nothing fucks with my baby.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra and Adora have negotiated.  
> Catra discovers that Adora looks amazing in leather.
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS:  
> As previously stated, PLUS: Actual physical restraint, actual sexual content, use of toys.  
> As always, let me know if I missed something out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever, and it isn't proofread. Don't hate me!
> 
> This chapter is mostly smut, as promised. It's pretty gentle, because I'm all about character and so smut doesn't come so naturally to me, but I try...
> 
> Also, don't @me for the inaccurate Latin. It worked for the story.

_Catra’s bed, later that evening…_

Catra reclines casually on her king size bed, waiting for Adora and looking a thousand times more predator than she does prey. She can’t help it, it’s a feline sort of grace that she possesses. Besides, Catra wears entirely too much leather and studs to ever be mistaken for submissive anyway.

Even though Adora is going to be the one who’s technically in charge tonight, the blonde has asked for a few adjustments to be made, and Catra happily agreed. Adora wants some tacit reminders that she is safe, that Catra is in control. For this reason, Catra’s kitten will be wearing her collar. Well, that and the fact that the blonde never feels sexier than when she can feel the soft weight of Catra’s dominance around her throat.

The collar is a recent addition to their collection, and it hadn’t really been planned. It had been an impulsive purchase on Catra’s part, when they’d gone into a kink store a couple weeks ago to purchase some new toys. 

_Adora’s eyes had caught on the soft white leather at once, though she tried not to show it. Catra grabbed the collar off the shelf, held it up. “You were looking at this. Tell me why.” she had instructed, with a glint in her eye. If Adora truly didn’t want to discuss it, Catra wouldn’t push. However, by the time Adora had finished blushing through her explanation there was no way at all Catra was leaving it on the shelf._

_Ownership has never been Catra’s thing - it implies responsibility - but after having Adora, the thought of her being anything but Catra’s made her crazy. Once she’d admitted that to herself, having a physical manifestation of that ownership hardly seemed like a huge step. Even before they were fucking, they were best friends who belonged to one another._

It’s Catra who has prepared the room - set a scented candle burning, laid out all their favourite toys for Adora on the dresser, fixed the restraints onto the bed, and stepped into a pretty leather harness with a generously sized (and hot pink, because it makes Adora blush) toy attached. This is more an experiment than it is a scene, and Catra knows Adora is going to need some coaching.

On the bed, Catra has a few more precious moments of anticipation as she awaits Adora’s entrance. It’s a small taste of the long-drawn-out build up she so often inflicts on Adora - only, Adora is made to wait on her knees.

When the door finally opens a few minutes later, Catra is overwhelmed with pride and arousal at the sight of her lover. Adora’s barefoot (hasn’t worn heels a day in her life, doesn’t intend to start now, even if they’re a staple of Catra’s scene wardrobe) but for a pair of sheer lace-trimmed hold-ups and suspenders Catra recognises as her own. There are no curves to speak of on the blonde’s athletic frame; just her sharp-cut thigh muscles, and the gentle ‘v’ of her hips peeking out from a pair of baby blue briefs. A matching sheer bralet makes a poor attempt at hiding the piqued nipples of Adora’s B-cups, and Catra’s leather lace-up cincher pulls in Adora’s waist to accentuate them more. Adora in leather is a kink Catra hadn’t realised she has until this moment.

“You ready kitten?” Catra asks when Adora pauses for a moment leaning in the doorway. Unsurprisingly, the blonde’s eyes have caught on the hot pink toy attached to Catra’s leather harness. When she doesn’t respond after another second, Catra clears her throat, brow raised. 

Adora grins then, a little sheepish, “I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s supposed to ask that.”

“You call me kitten, kitten, and you’ll pay for it,” Catra threatens good-naturedly and then, because she senses it’s needed, she takes the lead, “Get over here.”

Adora does as she’s bade, crossing the room to stand at the edge of the bed over Catra. Catra takes her hand, and the tension that leaves Adora’s body is palpable. She’s nervous.

“This goes without saying, but you are beyond beautiful in leather.”

“Thank you,” the praise goes straight to Adora’s cheeks. Then, Adora schools her expression into something resembling authoritative, likely a look that’s usually reserved for her patients. “What’s your safeword, Catra?” she asks.

Catra grins again; can’t help it. “Hmm,” she pretends to think. She trails a light finger from Adora’s palm up to her neck, stopping once she has Adora’s chin between her fingers. So maybe she’s agreed to let Adora top tonight, but that doesn’t mean that Catra will be an altogether cooperative bottom. “Eternia,” she suggests. Latin: the only class a pre-med and a history major had shared in college.

“Okay.”

Catra’s hand still holds Adora’s chin firmly.

“And what’s your safeword?”

“I don’t need a safeword,” Adora replies, confused.

Catra is adamant, voice hard suddenly, “Try again.”

Old habits die hard, Adora guesses. That, and Catra is far more caring than anyone but Adora ever gives her credit for.“Fine,” Adora nods, “Greyskull.” That’s her usual choice: the name of the bar where they had their first kiss.

Catra smirks, all hardness gone from her face. “Then I’m ready,” she says.

“Okay,” Adora brings her hand up to cover Catra’s hand on her chin, nothing but trust in her eyes, “Then I’m ready, too.”

“Good. Tell me what you want, Adora.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I don’t know. You’re the boss. If you want something, take it,” Catra says, and her gaze fixed on Adora is both reassurance and dare.

“Okay.” Tentatively, Adora leans over, hovers for a moment over Catra’s mouth. Catra tilts her head towards Adora’s to give her access, but doesn’t move closer. That’s Adora’s call. Adora teases though, keeping just an inch between her lips and Catra’s. It’s half nervousness, and half a game. Just when Catra thinks she’s going to lean in, Adora drops her head instead to her Dom’s neck.

“Mmm,” Catra lets out the sound involuntarily as Adora peppers soft kisses across her throat, warns her, “You better not be trying to tease me.”

Adora laughs, feeling bolder for having gotten a reaction out of the brunette, “What if I am? I get to do what I want. Your idea.”

“For now,” Catra says ominously, reaching over to give Adora’s ass a smack, “Just remember who’s back in charge once all of this is over.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Adora argues, swatting Catra’s hand away half-heartedly.

Catra just laughs, “Kitten, if you want to have _any_ chance of keeping my hands _off_ your ass, you better restrain me.”

Adora gasps, “I can do that?”Catra’s grin turns wicked, and she simply says, “If you want something…”

“Take it,” Adora finishes, and Catra thinks she might finally see some understanding in her face.

This is an exercise in empowerment, not a choreographed scene in which Adora’s anxieties can be masked by following instructions and relinquishing control. Those scenes have a place, sure, but Catra is right to suggest that they’re no substitute for therapy. Neither is this, but it’s a start.

Adora has seen Catra use restraints often enough that she can handle them confidently. She unfastens a simple leather cuff from the headboard and begins to tighten it around Catra’s wrist – the one the slapped her ass moments ago. She makes sure it’s loose enough by sliding a finger underneath; Catra’s wrists are more slender than her own so it needs adjusting. Once she’s attached the chain back to the headboard, she turns back to Catra, who’s been eyeing her with interest.

“How does that feel? She asks, referring to the cuff.

Things feel a little more real for Catra now she’s physically cuffed for the first time, but she doesn’t mind. She turns her wrist gently, finds her movement unrestricted, then gives a sharp tug on the chain. It doesn’t budge, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Perfect,” Catra assures her would-be sub. The reversal of their usual dynamic isn’t enough to stop warmth from lodging in Adora’s chest at the praise.

The process is repeated with Catra’s other wrist, which Adora fastens across from the first. Catra looks beautiful laid out on the bed like that, and Adora wonders if there’s any position that could make Catra look any less _regal_ than she is. It seems unlikely.

“What now, princess?” Catra asks warmly, correctly identifying Adora’s expression as one of adoration.

That’s a question Adora knows the answer to. Her eyes slide back unbidden to the eight inches of hot pink projecting out from Catra’s pelvis. Catra only grins.

“Go ahead then,” she urges, thinking Adora wants to go straight to fucking herself on the toy.

That isn’t quite on Adora’s mind yet, however. Adora is thinking about how much easier it will be to take her time with both of Catra’s hands out of the equation. There’s something in particular she never gets to spend much time doing.

It’s this: _Adora likes to suck dick._

It’s not a big deal. She’s definitely still a lesbian. There’s just something so sexy, messy and raw about gagging herself on something that’s going to be _inside_ her soon. She’s always been a little embarrassed discussing it with Catra, afraid Catra might be weirded out by her liking it so much. She’s done it a couple of times when they’ve used toys like this, but never for long - Catra’s impatient hands are always weaving tightly through her blonde hair, pulling her back to her feet so she can fuck Adora properly. Maybe Catra doesn’t think Adora likes it as much as she does, after all it’s not something that _gets them off_ so much as it just turns Adora on.

Adora is tentative when she settles on the bed between Catra’s legs. She wraps a gentle hand around the toy. It’s ribbed, and she likes the way the shape feels against her fingers. She keeps her cautious eyes on Catra as she leans to take the tip of it into her mouth.

Catra, to her credit, takes to this easily. Her expression transitions from curiosity to understanding, and she watches Adora with hooded gaze as the blonde lets her tongue coat the toy’s pink tip. It’s definitely an erotic image. The gentle pressure Adora exerts on the harnessed toy sends a swelling pool of heat through Catra. She itches to wind her hands into Adora’s hair, shift her hips until she’s fucking into the blonde’s mouth. It’s a gentle surprise to her when the restraints prevent her from reaching down.

Adora is gratified to notice what she perceives to be Catra’s enjoyment. Half to make her admit it, and half because she wants to make sure, Adora removes her lips from the toy with a ‘pop’ and asks, “Colour please?”

Catra grins knowingly, and fervently admits, “Green, princess. You’re so fucking sexy.”

Adora takes the praise in her stride this time (something Catra notes with interest, happy to see some confidence in Adora), and returns to her task. She allows the tip of the toy to brush the back of her throat, takes it further, and loves the feeling of _fullness_ that it gives her. It doesn’t matter that it’s only artificially attached to Catra; in Adora’s mind right now, it’s a living part of the other girl’s body.

Adora takes her time with the toy in her mouth, and Catra holds back on the string of praise she’s burning to let out about how gorgeous Adora looks with her mouth full like that, how much Catra wants to fuck her pretty throat or watch how her pussy stretches when it’s finally filled. All those things are true, yes, and she’s 100% sure hearing them would elicit a beautiful moan from her sub, but it’s not really in the spirit of today’s exercise, is it?

Instead, Catra settles on a steady, heated stare, and an occasional low hum of approval.

Catra, for her part, is ridiculously wet for someone who hasn’t been touched yet. In one of their usual scenes, Catra would have long since lost her patience with being teased. Having watched Adora transfixed for an unknowable number of minutes though, she’s sure she could tolerate being in this position for as long as Adora enjoys it.

When Adora’s finally had her fill (pun intended), she pulls away from the toy, lips shining from the moisture of her own mouth. She’s wearing a fuzzy expression that’s not unlike the one on Catra’s face, and her mouth looks so fucking kissable.

“You’re good at that,” Catra says, and it’s soft praise again; not the mistress dom kind that’s bubbling under the surface.

Adora grins, but she’s still unsure. “Did you enjoy it as much as it looked like you did, or were those moans just for my benefit?”

“Kiss me and find out,” Catra can’t help but say. Her tone requests but doesn’t demand.

Then, Adora is kissing Catra with that glossy wet mouth. For everything that Catra can’t communicate with her bound hands, she uses her lips, and tongue, and teeth. Adora melts the way she can’t help but melt between Catra’s teeth. It’s the soft moan that escapes her that tells Catra she’s abandoned all pretence of dominance. Catra imagines that the strip of white leather that encircles Adora’s throat is her own hand. She wants to _actually growl_ , but holds back because she is patient and she is disciplined, and she is going to explode if she doesn’t get her hands on Adora, like, _now._

“Adora,” she prompts, a thousand times more gently than she wants to.

“Mm?” Adora mutters, against Catra’s own lips.

“Can I put my hands on you now, baby?” Catra asks, tugging at her restraints to demonstrate the point.

“Please,” Adora agrees enthusiastically. Her hands fumble to unfasten the first of the leather cuffs, and Catra gets a beautiful eyeful of her lace-covered tits as she reaches up. She can’t help but lean forward and give a gentle nip to the soft skin of Adora’s chest. Adora yelps in surprise, and it takes her a few more tries with shaking hands until the first cuff is undone. Catra manages to unfasten the second herself before Adora can even reach for it.

Once released, Catra’s hands immediately settle on Adora’s hips and tug her closer. Adora whimpers.

“You’re still in charge, Princess,” Catra reminds her, teasing, “If you want something just ask for it.” In a usual scene, Catra might offer some suggestions, and refuse to relent until Adora is begging. She’d love to do that now, but she’d rather see how Adora is going to take what she wants, without instruction.

Adora considers this. She doesn’t feel _dominant_ right now, so much as she feels like a spoiled princess: a girl who’s adored and taken care of and given everything she asks for. Isn’t that why she insisted on wearing her collar?

“What do you want?” Catra prompts again, when Adora pauses. For a second, Adora seems unsure. She brings a hand up to her neck to finger the strip of white leather there unconsciously.

“Princess, what’s your colour?” Catra asks, all concern, the note of teasing gone.

This seems to snap Adora from her thoughts. She meets Catra’s eyes again, and takes a moment to consider the question.

“Green,” she says decisively, “I want to ride you.”

That sexy grin snaps back into place on Catra’s mouth.

“So do it,” she dares, and Adora does.

When Adora sinks down onto the hot pink toy, she feels every inch of it fill her. Every rib of its shape stretches her open.

Catra watches Adora take her own pleasure, and she doesn’t move an inch. It’s intoxicating.

Over and over again Adora rises and sinks down, rises and sinks down. She grinds down again and again until the hot pink tip brushes just the right spot. She lets the feeling build. Loses herself. Keeps building.

She doesn’t know how long it’s been when she finally feels the pleasure crest. One of her hands clutching at the collar around her throat, and the other grinding down into her clit, all she knows is this: Catra can top her from the bottom any time she wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Thanks for sticking with me if you did, and thanks for prodding me with messages to finish this fic (eventually, I listened). 
> 
> I might continue to write one or two little drabbles in this AU, but most of my attention right now is on my longer series, which is a Catradora ballet AU (check it out if you wanna, I'm having a lot of fun living out my childhood dance dreams).
> 
> Stay groovy.


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